Stupid White Men

 Michael Moore - Stupid White Men

Browsing through a few bookstores, I bought a couple of books, one of them by Michael Moore, titled "Stupid White Men." I’m writing about this book because I liked it a lot, and I think I’m going to use many of the concepts he expresses about the American reality, connecting them to the Argentine reality due to their similarities. Also because of the difference in what he calls a first-world country—the US—and banana republics. It hurts me to say it, but I think Argentina, under his concept, would fall into the latter.

It’s a book published in the year 2001. I acquired it toward the end of 2007, and I can assure you it hasn’t lost its relevance. As for the price, I got it for 10 pesos, which doesn’t seem expensive to me—to tell the truth, I don't really know, but it’s a book with plenty of pages, almost 290, with a glossy, colorful cover. When I was walking through the bookstore, the cover photo caught my attention alongside the title in large font; it’s a photo of the author with an "it wasn't me" look on his face.

He uses simple language, loaded with unusual words that enrich the text. It’s a fast and engaging read, at least for those of us who enjoy this kind of commentary—because it is a critique: a critique of American society and especially of the American government, drawn from many small criticisms seen throughout society. However, he doesn’t write like a professional sociologist, but rather as just another American carrying a lot of information. He doesn't get into precise details, if you will, but he lets you know he has them, because he isn't aiming for a academic study, but speaking to the ordinary person. That’s what I think about it after reading it. It brings to light everything we complain about, what hurts us, and even what we suffer from regarding our governments and society itself—which is often complicit, whether through inaction or by being the ones who choose those who govern. I speak in the plural because much of what he says is very similar to what happens in this country. There are common points—I’d say almost most of them—and in other areas they differ, but the difference is minor. In some cases due to different customs, and in others because there are things we may not have imported yet due to our backwardness, but that might arrive in the not-too-distant future. To mention a couple of examples of what I just wrote: a common point is seeing the decline of education and the lack of interest in it. A point of difference is how, in the US, companies invest in schools aiming for a profit—which is very well explained and criticized in the book. Here, the disinterest in education seems total; you don't yet see companies viewing schools as an investment, perhaps because we don't have major corporate development here either. I'm just mentioning these as examples, but you have to read the book, which is explained very well, and you can find both similarities and (small) differences between the US and what the writer-filmmaker denounces.

As a side note, the book I bought has a preface written by Jorge Lanata. The preface is very brief, and a couple of interesting concepts can be drawn from it—or at least ones I liked. Here in this country, there is a bad habit—or at least what I believe to be a bad habit—of constantly searching for Argentine equivalents for everything good, both foreign and domestic. Usually, you hear—or at least there's word-of-mouth—comparing the American to the Argentine, referring to the latter as the "Argentine Moore," something I don't agree with. I have my doubts about whether they chose the journalist for his skill, career, and recognition, or for strictly commercial reasons; I lean toward the latter, given that the front cover highlights the text with "Preface by Jorge Lanata." I don't know—Allan Poe's complete works don't say "with a preface by Cortázar" on the cover, nor do editions of "The Prince" say "commented by Napoleon" on the front. I mean, they do say it, but on the first or second page. Anyway, it’s an aside, but I wanted to make the point. I'll end this paragraph with part of a phrase Lanata himself uses in his preface: “the System responds to him the only way it knows how.”

There are chapters that are incredible—I liked them very much, and many parts are even worth re-reading. There’s one, Chapter 2, titled "Dear George," which is a ruthless critique of the President of the United States; he doesn't hold anything back. But this was written in 2001, and it turned out George was re-elected. I mention this because it relates to another chapter—specifically Number 4, titled "Kill Whitey." Despite being a bestseller and despite the critical acclaim and reception the book received (keeping in mind Moore wrote many more books and made films, some of which won major awards), and added to the fact that in the first election, the majority voted for the candidate who lost, George ended up being re-elected. I don't know if Moore wrote about this, but now that he is finishing his second term, it's interesting to look back. Evidently, something is missing from everything written. I think Moore is missing something; in some way he should explain why he was elected. I don't think he's wrong, but reading it now from a distance, the book falls short of explaining the re-election. On the other hand, the chapter "Kill Whitey" can be paralleled in Argentina with the lower classes, and even sectors of the white middle class. Where he refers to Black people there as victims of white people, here the exact same thing happens with the criminalized sector. What he writes feels like a carbon copy, except here it's the social classes with lower incomes—not only criminalized, but also victimized, including foreigners both from neighboring countries and Asian countries. In that chapter, what he says about guns is very interesting, but I'll leave the topic of guns for another post. The following chapter, titled "Idiot Nation," is a critique of education. Reading that—if they, who are from the first world, are doing so badly, how are we, who are underdeveloped, doing? The deterioration he describes is just like what happens here. It's one of the chapters I liked the most because of how he develops it; in fact, it's the chapter to which he devotes the most pages in the entire book. I don't think that's a minor detail; I think it shows the importance he gives it. The more he criticizes a topic, the more he wants to improve it, the more he cares about it—that's how it seemed to me. Plus, I think education is essential; you cannot attack it, as he is denouncing.

He uses humor a lot, and there are passages that are fabulous, even with the choice of words he uses (or at least in the translation); he even recommends using humor. Despite being almost seven years old now, the book deals with issues that are still relevant, such as global warming or the higher number of women compared to men who are victims of violence (of various kinds). It advocates for freedoms that are not properly enforced, addresses energy problems in his country—something we are no strangers to, since to some extent we have them too—and talks about mad cow disease, among other things.

(originally published on 2/7/2008)